No One Expects a Spanish Inquisition
by sleepy hippo
Summary: Matthew is not alone, well, literally, he suspects that even with others around he may just be. It may be he even likes it that way. Spain is not so sure and maybe he understands a little. The suggestion of possible Spain/Canada. For Canada day/Euro 2012 finals.


I haven't written in a while but this...kind of just happened with little reason or rhyme to it. Congratulations to Spain for winning Euro 2012, I enjoyed the tournament immensley. Happy Canada day! To you Canadians.

**Disclaimer** - I own it not. Not Hetalia, the nations of Spain or Canada (to be remedied in the future) or Euro 2012.

* * *

Canada watched as the last of his fellow nations swarmed out of the conference room, some in small knots, as they made their way towards a shared destination and others singly, leisurely loosening ties and visibly relaxing at the end of a long and trying day.

The rest of the week loomed before them but for now there was space to breathe, time enough for documents to be perused, issues to be further examined from the various represented viewpoints and time to half-casually strike up conversations that would ultimately lead to the furthering of political relations. All in all it was business as usual, a familiar dance - deft, sometimes manipulative manoeuvring amidst a flurry of activity.

And yet it wasn't quite right. Not for Canada. As the last person left he relaxed back into his seat, staring up at the ceiling in distraction, letting his thoughts meander through the day – for once he was the nation trying to recall details of his exchanges with others, names, faces. It had all been a bit of a blur, one discussion, one nation, blending into another in his mind. His notes were hardly any more intelligible, barely there for the most part.

The sound of a throat being cleared jolted him out of his analysis, his eyes briefly flickering towards the now empty doorway though his head did not turn; the noise was from the other side of the room.

Spain. How had he missed that? The older nation seemed at ease, a smile settled on his face but it was slightly less there than usual, somewhat less shining and though he seemed to be the picture of contentedness there was something sad about that smile.

"Hola." He greeted, voice warm and soft.

"Hello. Sorry, I thought I was alone." Canada wasn't sure he really wanted to be in company right now, as much as the other's presence and state intrigued him. He often yearned for a little more company, or that his general acquaintances had a touch more awareness but today he didn't really care for it. He needed solitude, he thought. A solitude that he had chosen and that had not been thrust upon him.

"There are no need for your apologies," Spain cocked his head slightly to the side, "But I think you are wanting to be alone and are only too polite to say so much."

Canada had to stop himself from uttering the undignified squawk that seemed to be his first response to that strangely acute – and wholly unexpected - observation. Spain chuckled and again the sound carried the hint of melancholy to it, "Invisibility is not the only tool of observation. I will leave you alone to your thoughts." He pushed back his chair and gathered the sparse notes that sat on the tabletop in front of him, making to leave.

"No!" Canada started, the Spaniard's actions shaking him out of his surprised stupor, "I wasn't meaning…well, I was but, do you…?" He trailed off, not quite managing, and hardly daring to articulate the thought that weight heavier by the second. _Invisibility. He said invisibility,_ his mind screamed.

"Ah si, Mateo, I know you. You and Alfred are as different as Veneziano and Lovino after all."

Canada didn't really know how to reply to that but he noted the use of personal names, strange for a country, it was seen as an intimate address. It made sense with the Italian brothers of course but himself and Alfred had never been particularly close to the Spaniard. Himself especially.

Spain seemed to sense this too. "I am being too personal Canada?" He asked, eyebrow raised, though he didn't seem to be too concerned, almost amused, Canada calculated.

"It…no, I'm just surprised really." _England and France struggle to remember it after all, and rarely call me by it._

"I think you meant that to be inside." Spain suggested, and realising he had voiced his thoughts aloud Matthew felt heat infuse his cheeks. He was slipping into that more and more recently, it was a habit that was oft times not picked up on but maybe it was more dangerous than he had previously assessed. He'd have to try and be more conscious of it clearly. "I would not worry over those two, I think they might be incapable of remembering too much, they have knocked each other about the head too often you understand."

"I'm not exactly worried." Matthew replied tersely, slightly too hard an edge to his voice if Spain's expression was anything to go by, though it only wavered for a moment before he looked cheerful once more.

"Well that is your business."

"I'm sorry."

"There is no need, if you speak a truth do not apologise for it."

"Right," Matthew muttered, feeling entirely too on the spot.

"Why are you not going with the others?" Spain asked, nodding his head towards the doorway.

"Why haven't you?" Matthew shot back, looking at his interrogator piercingly, more than a little curiosity in his tone and expression.

"Hahah! Well, you first, it is only polite since I first asked." Matthew stared at him for a second longer, the promise that he would not forget to return the favour hanging in the air before he sighed and decided there was no reason to hold back now.

"I don't feel like tagging along, not today." He looked away from the soft expression on the Spaniards face, feeling pathetic for admitting this and not wanting to see what expression those eyes held, or the lack of recognition.

"You now." Matthew prompted, feeling the silence weigh on his chest as if it would stop his breath.

"I do not think _Mateo_, that you have said what you mean." But he seemed to let it go in a breath, "I wanted a quiet moment, before the arguments start. It is nice to have some peace from time to time."

"Liar." Matthew hissed without a pause, the word tumbling out too quickly for it to be halted or stored away. "I was at least honest, if not completely illuminating, have the decency to return the favour." Spain only nodded, without saying anything, though he seemed hurt by the words, his smile wilting.

"Si, yes, of course. I am not lying, I…but I have won a football competition this very evening, a large European event." He paused, the smile coming back brighter than before as he laughed mischievously, "I was watching the game on the phone I sneaked in during the meeting, as were Lovino and Veneziano. I think Germany understood and ignored us. He is too embarrassed to bring attention to his own defeat hahah."

"You said you won, shouldn't you be happy?" Matthew thought of the rush he experienced whenever he won hockey in a big competition, when he, _Canada_, won on the international stage he felt a kind of berserk ecstasy as he revelled in the celebrations, amongst his people.

"I did not say I was not happy, did I?" He asked, smiling, though it looked a touch strained this time.

"No, but you don't look all that happy, not really. You look a little sad actually." It was Spain's turn to try and hold back his surprise, though he looked at Matthew very closely for a long while before speaking again.

"You are right. Sometimes it is lonely to be the winner ¿no?. When you are not home, or not _there_ with your players and people, your supporters. Instead I am left with my friends, but…"

"They lost."

"Si. They have all went to commiserate and the winner is not to be invited you see." Canada nodded, understanding all too well.

"It is my birthday today." He said, voice so quiet it was barley audible but Spain had noticed the secondary change in body language and had been listening, waiting, for something.

"I am sorry, I did not know."

"Why would you?" Canada asked quickly. You are not family was the unspoken thought and although Matthew had definitely not said it this time Spain had heard it regardless.

"They will not remember but your brother will have a large gathering?" Matthew nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

After a moment of silence he pushed away the anger and said, voice even, "And your family will be with each other, without wanting you there." It was more blunt than usual and possibly there was a little too much projection there but, well, it was too late now to hold back. It wasn't that he felt all that sad, resigned, maybe, underappreciated, definitely but…it was that apartness that got to him. And here he was, stuck away from home. It was always alright when he was home.

Spain seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, he had that abstracted look that Matthew now suspected he wore when he was thinking and maybe it was less vacuous than before, or maybe Matthew was just more attuned to it now.

"Let us go and have dinner, it is late and it is good to relax at the end of these days. It is a long week."

"I don't want pity." Matthew sharply insisted. Spain offered him a genuinely joyful smile.

"I will not offer it if you do not offer it but why talk of pity? We both have something to celebrate, if we let ourselves dwell on these small moments of sadness they will only become greater and our thoughts will rest there longer, let us instead grab the opportunity to celebrate in company." He paused, and a low rumbling filled the otherwise empty conference room, "And eat, because I am very hungry!"

"And drink," Matthew muttered, feeling his spirits lift, even if he held onto his sceptical tone, not wanting to cave to such forced optimism so readily.

Matthew gathered his documents and headed towards the door, Spain by his side, companionable silence settling over them. Almost silence, since the Spaniard was humming quietly to himself.

"Eh, one thing, how'd you know my name?" Canada asked as the exited the conference building.

"You were Francis' treasure, though he may not seem to remember it so much these days. He talks a lot about cute things, as does Gilbert of course! It is one of his greatest weaknesses."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "God, I hate being called cute. I'm a man and I am not _cute_."

"You certainly are a man." Spain teased, expression slightly more aware in an indefinable but definitely lecherous way, "But you can be both! Manly cuteness!"

"European's are the worst." Matthew groaned.

"Do not be so cruel little Mateo, it does not suit one so cute!" Spain laughed, skipping out of range of the fist that came towards his head at surprising speed.

"You're not as slow as you look."

"Of course not! I am a football champion, I have great reflexes and stamina."

"I am beginning to see why Lovino is so often cursing you." Spain just laughed, shrugging as if Lovino's actions were something he could not possibly fathom.

"I begin to doubt why Gilbert thinks you are so awesome."

Spain didn't move fast enough and the folder the Canadian was carrying was launched at his head, bouncing off with a dull thud, causing both the nations to laugh.

"I will be sure to pay you back for that Mateo."

"Oh yeah? Don't see you doing much."

"Well, I cannot be predictable about it, I have a reputation to uphold!"

"Yes that friendly cheerfulness is all a front."

'Ssshhhhh, do not go ruining all of my secrets." Silence settled on them again and Spain began to hum once more, Matthew suspected he didn't realise he was doing it.

"Is this okay Spain?" Matthew asked as they came to a stop outside a friendly looking restaraunt. Spain looked at him strangely, maybe not comprehending the nature of the inquiry.

"Yes. And call me Antonio."

"Antonio?" Matthew repeated, thinking it would of course be strange to call him Spain in the restaurant and yet sensing the peculiar intimacy afforded to him.

"Antonio, por favor."

And with the curious lightness of beginnings, they entered the restaurant.

* * *

Spain's reputation to uphold - 'No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.' Yes, this was all a bad joke. See title. :P

One day I will write a Spain/Canada fic because I think they're cute but then I like a worrying amount of Canada-centric pairings.

Reviews and criticisms appreciated. I apologise for any errors I may not have caught, this was slightly rushed, I am surprised I managed to finishing something but will just be glad of it and not question the powers that be why I was able to break my ongoing writers block.


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